


The Apocalypse Won't Be Televised

by Bitsy



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 07:19:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4657560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitsy/pseuds/Bitsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who killed the world? And who could possibly rebuild?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Apocalypse Won't Be Televised

_“A LONG WAY FROM YOU!!!“_

What is it about men who think they can own women and their bodies? What is it about men who think power includes the right to everything? Men? You have nothing. NOTHING. And yet you keep insisting that you have everything. Children come through us, not you. You’re nothing but a passing whimsy, no matter how much you control. Women....women, we have the truth of it. We know in our secret hearts what’s the reality. You can never truly know, no matter what soft assurances we whisper in your ears. Only a woman can know what passes through her, in her, out of her. Don’t assume you have anything like our inner selves.

_Who killed the world?_

**WHO KILLED THE WORLD.**

Furiosa is one of the lucky ones. One of the LUCKY ones. One of the women who wasn’t seen as a breeder, due to the flaws of her form. All of her beauty could not erase her flaws in the eyes of the Immortan. Her form would never be disfigured by a fetus, growing in her belly. Her belly is a desert, worse than the outside world. Nobody could fertilize this land, it’s fallow ground left wanting. Furiosa is not a plot to sew. She’s not sure if that’s luck or skill or some random chance of genetics. The bottom line: Immortan Joe has no claim on her womb.

Her barren womb. So many women were hooked into the reproductive cycle of humanity, and yet...Furiosa had no such claim. No spawn would exit her loins, and that was probably for the best. The world was so smegging fucked up, another child would just be another burden. Nobody would want a child now.

_**WHO KILLED THE WORLD.** _

The world was obviously dead. This was no story to be shared amongst the survivors. This was not a media blitz. This was not a myth to be shared fireside. No matter what else was going on. The world was a desert, sandy and dry and impossible. The world had no future, nothing but the use of its bones. No bones could support the flesh of a new generation.

Who. Killed. The world.

Acres. Miles. Kilometers. Countries. Continents. Land masses. Equators. Oceans. Who killed the world? The world exists of orange yellow dead land, sand and scrub and rock and death, orange and yellow and red. The dead world, colors unimportant in the face of survival.

Was it any surprise that the wives begged the one female Imperator to free them? Offered her anything, from water to guzzoline to bullets to flesh? And in the end, none of the above was her price? Furiosa wasn’t bought and sold, not like before. Not like before. No temptations swayed her, no price bought her. She was not a creature of water, with its absence marked by its loss. She had nothing that anybody could want. Except the call of freedom.

And in the end, freedom won. No power, no gun, no Immortan could match it. Freedom was the coin that the desert, the world could not match. Who killed the world?

Who would resurrect it?

Who? The wombs Immortan Joe could not claim. To be born from the ashes. To be born from the dust. To be born from the disastrous present. Beat that, you old man. Beat that, Joe. Your busted body is no match for the freshness of the now. Do not resent your lack in the current world. Nobody else does.

**Author's Note:**

> I am on Tumblr at [BitsyFic.](http://bitsyfic.tumblr.com)


End file.
